Summary:Jean is out for a run when she comes across a stranger… Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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The park is as the park is, beautiful, pristine, and this night in particular there is a feel of something almost magical in the air. If you believe in that sort of thing of course. The night sky is crystal clear, the pin pricks of light that can be seen through the usually over powering light polition glint and glimmer in a cloudless black sky, and the moon, what of her shows, casts a silvery light across the world wreathing everything in a gentle shimmer that would be forboding on most night but today seems inviting. The temperature is cool, but not cold, and the breeze, such as there is, is gentle, careful, just enough to stir the leaves of the trees to whispering but not enough to chill bare skin.
Sitting alone on a patch of grass in off of the 'path' in the park, Hod rests, his back pressed into the soft grass, his head pillowed on the wadded up scarf that was around his neck. His fingers are laced behind her head, and despite the night, his sunglasses rest on his face, mirroring the moons slivered face back up to her. His dark clothing, dark hair, and pale skin make him seem to blend into the background of dappled moonlight and shifting night shadows. In fact, it would be /very/ easy to not notice he was there at all.
Jean is usually in the city these days, but the past week has been spring break. And as she had neither the funds nor the inclination to go on a vacation, she spent most of the week in the city and came home for the last weekend. 'Home' in this case of course meaning Westchester and the school. It may not be where her parents live, but it's where she grew up and it's where the people she really considers family are.
Of course, last night she had a singularly awkward conversation with Scott Summers, so it's possible that by going for a run all the way out here this late at night, she's avoiding dealing with it. Just maybe.
The chill in the air is perfect for a run, but she's at the tail end of hers, her t-shirt damp with sweat and the water bottle hanging from a clip over her leggings almost empty. When it comes to noticing people, though, Jean has a bit of an edge. After all, she's not generally using her eyes so much as her mind. And sensing another mind of any sort out here at night is surprising enough for her to actually head in that direction.
"Hello?" she calls over, curious.
Hod's mind is… odd. Even the surface thoughts are jumbled or perhaps just foregin? Alien? There's a word for it, unnormal will suffice. Upon her call however, an shift occurs in them, pulling them from an aimless sort of lethargy and into a sharp focus. "Hello back." says a soft deep voice from the shadows. Seriously, even knowing he's there it's hard to spot the guy. The glint from the glasses, the silver head of the cane, likely the only things that give him away. He just seems to blend in… but that could be the night too.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you." Jean comes a little closer, a small, friendly smile curving. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. And, you know. Not a body." The smile deepens slightly as she gets close enough to see better, head tilting at the glasses. Not that she's not used to that particular look. "Are you? Okay, that is. Not a lot of people out here this late at night most of the time."
Hod is quiet for a long moment, "Welp… I'm not dead, if that helps any." he offers in a tone that might have been banter. "I mean technically I'm still a /body/, but I'm an animate one so likely not one in the manner in which you were concerned." he pauses, then continues, "I'm a bit maudlin tonight. Every night. Character flaw. All very broody and mopey, touch of the Eeyore in the veins, you know the drill most likely."
"It does help, actually," Jean chuckles, following his gaze up toward the sky. "I was not prepared to do the whole calling the cops for a body thing tonight, so thank you for not being dead." She pulls her water bottle from its clip, taking a swallow before she looks back over. "Mind if I sit for a minute or two? I could use a cool down. And I may possibly be avoiding going hom, but that's a whole different issue. What's the maudlin thought of the moment?"
Hod raises a hand in a benevolent gesture, "Well it seemed the polite thing to do." by way of saying your welcome for not being dead. "Supposedly it's a free country, sit where you will, it's a beautiful night and honestly there are few enough of those one should never allow one to pass without appreciateing it." it sounds almost like a quote or something, maybe a paraphrase of sorts? "Oh, today?" he's quiet for a moment, "That I miss my family." he says after a long long pause. "Or maybe that I miss my brother." he sounds as if he can't make up his mind, "Maybe a bit of both. Maybe less of one then the other. That maybe I should visit home… despite how monumentally stupid an idea that would be."
Jean lowers herself to the ground nearby, starting to sit cross-legged before she realizes she'll be craning her neck that way. After a moment, she echoes Hod, lying back and folding her arms behind her head. "I definitely get that feeling," she nods. "Kind of had that thought before I came back here this weekend, actually. For what it's worth, I don't…think it turned out too badly. Although I could be wrong, there's still aftermath to play out. Were you close with your brother?"
Hod's beard pulls to one side, a sort of smile crossing his lips, "He is the only one who has ever been as family to me." he says after a moment of stillness, "He is…" he waves a hand, "hard to quantify. He is…" another pause, then a soft scoffing noise, "my brother." as if those two words should explain what any others could not.
Of all people, Jean understands the things unsaid. "I get it. I mean. Sort of. I'm an only child, but I came to school here when I was pretty young. The people I met there are my family in a way I don't think my parents can ever be. Sometimes I feel guilty about that," she admits, then shrugs against the grass. "And other times I just feel incredibly lucky for the things that I have. When was the last time you talked to your brother?"
Hod chuckles at that, "Oh…" he says, letting the word hang in the air, "Sometimes it feels like millenia." the smile in the beard grows a little as if sharing some inside joke. "Suffice to say, long enough I likely couldn't pin point a date persay. Since the day my father disowned me and kicked me out of the family I guess."
Jean's brows rise at that answer, though it seems more at the idea of being that detached from someone important than at the actual idea of millennia. "That sounds tough," she says quietly. "I'm sorry that happened to you." And the funny thing is, it sounds like she truly means that. Like she's heard that story enough times, felt those emotions strongly enough, that she regrets it happening even to a complete stranger. "Do you have any way to contact your brother?"
Hod waves her apology away, "You're not my father, you've nothing to apologize for. Sweet of you to say though." he can at least apprecaite the sentiment, "My brother and me exsist on … seperate planes. So to speak. We've not spoken in an Age or two and we don't travel in the same sort of circles. In fact, if he weren't my brother, he's exactly the sort of person I'd hate. Except…" another hand wave, "he's my brother." those words again. He chuckles a bit at that, and the shadows around them seem somehow lighter for the sound, wry and self depricating as it was, "That being said, honestly, I can find anyone. It's kinda my job. If I wanted to…" he lets the rest hang.
"You mean if you weren't afraid to." From some people, it might sound like a challenge. From Jean, it just sounds like simple fact. No judgment, maybe a little bit of sympathy. But as if it's entirely reasonable, if nothing else. "What's the worst that could happen?" Oh, if only she knew.
Hod nods when she makes her first comment, her second causes him to bark a laugh aloud, though somehow the sound is berift of leviety and sounds somehow more maudlin then it had before, "Oh… The end of the world?" he offers in a now familiar wry tone. "I'm a bit older then you, and because I'm rocking this hipster beard and these fashionable shades in the middle of the night despite all reason, I feel /just/ self righteous enough to give you my world view. Everyone likes to /say/ things like 'whats the worst that could happen' by means of pretending that the worst doesn't actually exsist. It's a metaphorical question, a rhetorical device used to trick the mind into thinking that the 'worst' isn't that bad. But that's not true. The reality of the situation is that I could show up and my father could hear I was coming and attack, murdering me in front of my family scaring my brother for eternity. I could unintentionally murder him in some cruel accidental twist of fate, the skies could fall the earth could rupture, the Realms themselves be torn asunder in upheaval and interdimensional war…" he sighs, "I mean sure, it's /unlikely/, but that /is/ the worst that could happen. Technically speaking." he lets that ridiculousness hang in the air for a bit, "End of the world. Basically. Not sure that's worth soothing my homesickness."
Jean lets that sink in for a moment, mulling it over, then nods. "That's a pretty solid worst that could happen, all things considered." Oddly enough, she doesn't seem to be thrown by the answer. Or the possibilities. "For what it's worth, we were taught to think about the worst that could happen for the purpose of making sure we were prepared for it. For a while there, 'the worst that could happen' was a bunch of killer robots who might or might not kill us and destroy the only safe place we had, so. Slightly less than world-ending for the whole world, but more or less the same for ours." She's quiet for another moment, then turns her head to look over at him. "Ever try making some friends?"
Hod snickers aloud at that, "Friends?" he says after a long moment, "Oh wait," he turns his head a bit to her side as if he weren't looking at her but were close to it, "you're serious." he beams, "You're a sweet kid arencha?" he turns his eyes back up to the sky, "Afraid friends aren't really in the sky for me. I tend to be uh… dour. People feel sorry for me, I get that pity spike early on, but soon enough my doom and gloom brings them down. It's fun and games to be around a cynic for awhile, but you live there to long we suck the hope and joy from everything you love. Makes you miserable. Eventually you gotta make a call, happiness or that dark creepy guy. Happiness tends to win out. Historically speaking." he's quiet for a moment, "But yeah, I've had a few. They uh… they die. Did I mention I have shit luck, cause… ya know, maudlin man over here."
Jean laughs. Genuine laughter, nothing wry or cynical about it. "Yeah," she says, amused. "Sorry, I should introduce myself. I'm Jean. And I've been told a time or twelve that I tend to see the best in people. I've heard that line before, too." She snorts, rolling her eyes a bit. "Actually, I'm pretty sure I got a variation on it last night from the person I care the most about in the world. 'I'd just hold you back, Jean, you're better off without me.'" Another snort, another roll of her eyes as she shakes her head. "Bullshit, that's what that is. You can't make those decisions for people, you know. You have to let them decide if they're okay with the hard parts."
Hod is the actual god of brooding people… he can't help but find a dark entertainment in the conversation at this point, which… he is aware, involves a certain irony. Welcome to being Hod. "Yeah, I'm not that guy either. I'm not big on Fate. Eff those gals. No, I just believe in pattern recognition." he adjusts his pillow scarf, "What's that saying about insanity, doing the same thing expecting something new? Yeah."
"Yeah, but when it comes to people, it's never the same thing," Jean counters. "People are all different. The world is different. Circumstances are different. Times and places are different. It's almost impossible to do the same thing twice when it comes to people. I mean, I get the fear," she adds, looking over again. "No one likes getting hurt. Or losing people. But it's got to be better than never having any at all. I mean, maybe. It would be for me, at least."
Hod keeps the same grin, but it's somewhat sadder then before, "I disagree. You know enough people over enough years, you see the pattern, at some point you have to start figureing it's just you." he 'glances' her direction, "It's not you sweetie. It's me." then he smirks. "Hurt I can live with, losing people you get used to if you do it often enough. But sometimes, just sometimes, being alone … sucks."
"Yeah, no kidding," Jean agrees. "Being alone sucks." She starts to sit up, pulling a card out of the pocket of the jacket tied around her waist. "Well. As being alone does suck, I should probably be getting home myself. But if you ever want to talk, or just…I dunno. Not be completely alone? You can give me a call. As you have probably figured out by now, I kind of like people, so." She offers out the card, which is a simple affair with embossed letters: Xavier Institute. Jean Grey. And a number.
Hod is quiet for a long moment, then he grins wider, "You're cute kiddo." he says before reaching up to tap his glasses with a fingertip, "I can hear you shuffeling the card out, I can almost imagine you trying to pass it over to me. Blind." he says by way of explination, "And therefore illiterate. Cards not super useful." he beams at her, "Adorable. I'd pat you on the head but I'm only sorta aware of it's location currently."
Jean smirks, tucking the card back into her pocket. "That's okay. I've got a few other tricks too." She stretches one arm across her chest, then the other, loosening back up. She'll try then to simply insert the knowledge into his mind. But it's one of her newer tricks, one she hasn't had a lot of practice with. And then there's the issue of being a rather alien mind. But she tries.
Doubly alien mind. He has no concept of visual representation, not as she recognizes it, and as that's 90% of the information the human brain takes in, it's difficult to try to… … …and then there's the alien aspect. His mind is… old. No. Old. Capital O. Which makes it intransient, intractable, hard to mould or move about, adjust or change. It's /possible/ of course, but it's not like dealing with a human mind… normal mind? Mortal mind? Something. Like other people. It's not like other people. "Whoa." he says after a moment, "Telepath. Huh." he doesnt' sound entirely put out, or even that shocked, just a little intrigued. "That works." he says as the information eventually worms it's way in.
Jean furrows her brows, concentrating until she can find a way to match the mind, then lets out a huff of breath. "That does explain a thing or two," she chuckles, rubbing at her brow for a moment afterwards. "Call if you ever just want to talk though. Really. For now though, I should get back before people start worrying about me. Side benefit of friends," she teases. "Take care of yourself." And with that, she starts back down the path, headed back to the school.
Hod raises a hand in a little wave, "Sure thing kiddo." though, despite their chat, pleasent as it seemed, he doesn't sound like someone who's likely to make the call. Some people… they just like the dark.
.~{:-:[ end of log ]:---------——:}~.